


You were never in control anyway

by orphan_account



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Bottom Javier, Dominance, Explicit Language, F/M, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Bondage, M/M, Partners to Lovers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Roughness, Top Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 10:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12580088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Set in Season 2 after episode 5 (Contains spoilers)Would you believe me if I told you that Steve is sitting at a desk with a cigarette between his lips and half a bottle of Jameson by his side in the middle of the night, waiting for his partner to come through the door like an overprotective mom? It’s one hell of a picture - but it is the truth.





	You were never in control anyway

Steve could blame it on the whiskey. Maybe he could blame it on work-related stress, or Connie. Maybe it was Pablo fucking Escobar triggering some kind of chemical reaction in his brain, causing him to feel temporarily insane. Sleep depravity is one hell of a thing they say. They also say that dedication in the job puts perfection in the work but for him, that butterfly is still only a caterpillar.    
  
Would you believe me if I told you that Steve is sitting at a desk with a cigarette between his lips and half a bottle of Jameson by his side in the middle of the night, waiting for his partner to come through the door like an overprotective mom? It’s one hell of a picture but it is the truth. 

Steve is worried because he knows that Javier is somewhere he shouldn’t be with people he shouldn’t involve himself with. Steve is angry because he knows that Javier knows that and yet keeps getting himself into difficult situations Steve has to cover for him.

Steve takes a sip of his drink and sets it down again. The alcohol is slowly kicking in, he can feel it. Over the last couple of weeks down in Colombia his tolerance has grown to a point that’s obscene for a person of his build, but his liver just doesn’t give a fuck. It takes a lot for Steve to actually get drunk, but he thinks he might need to be for what was to come.  
  
As the door to their shared room finally opens, Steve’s eyes shift over to his wrist and reads 2:00 A.M on his watch before throwing a narrow-eyed glance towards Javier as he sneaks through the door like some teenager who’s been out past his curfew and does his best to avoid getting busted, but he is busted alright. By his  _ fucking _ mother of a partner.    
  
Javier looks up and notices Steve as he leanes the door closed. They stay like that for a while. Neither move, neither talk. The situation is awkward and doesn’t belong in a place like Bogota, and mostly not between two grown men.

“Where have you been?” Steve ask eventually as he drill the last of his cigarette into the ashtray, fatigue thick in his voice.   
  
Javi scrunches his face like he always does when bothered. “Just out. Why do you care?”    
  
“Why wouldn’t I care?” Steve snorts and takes another sip of his drink, unimpressed by the short and obvious answer but then again, he never expects anything else from Javier.   
  
“You tell me.”

”How’s Diego doing by the way? Did you get intel on which innocent women and children Los Pepes will kill next?” Steve changes the subject because he doesn’t feel like telling Javier.   
  
Javier sighs while undressing himself of his jacket and throws it over a chair, clearly annoyed with Steve’s impertinent.  “Look man, I’ve got it under control-”    
  
“Clearly. You are definitely keeping Los Pepes on a short leash.” Steve interrupts and gets on his feet to notice that the whiskey intake has taken its toll and he has to put effort into keeping an upright position.    
  
Javier puts his hands on his hips, staring the other man down. “You’ve been drinking?” He asks, sounding overly patient and it grates on Steve’s nerves even more.  
  
“So? Even in my drunken state I can tell that your thing with Los Pepes is a bad fucking joke.” Javi approaches Steve as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards.    
  
“Yeah cause you are the funny one,” he murmurs and gets close, too fucking close and looks as good as ever and it triggers something in Steve. -“Getting fucking wasted every night, winding up on me cause you are too afraid to face your own fucking problems.” Steve could never be fooled by the smug look, Javi is pissed off and Steve is pissed off on alcohol and those two don’t combo.    
  
“My  _ problem _ is that we were so fucking close to snatching Escobar and instead went home with Carillo and ten of his men in bodybags because  _ your _ informant played us like a fucking violin.” He quips, trying to keep his voice firm but he can hear himself slur - which is embarrassing.   
  
“Fuck you Steve.” Javier replies harshly. -“Cause you are doing such a great job catching Escobar when you are not feeling sorry for yourself that your wife left you.”    
  
“Shut up.” Steve warns because Javi’s crossing some dangerous territory but also because Javi was so perfectly smarmy, and every sharp word was going straight to Steve’s cock.    
  
“What? Did I hit a mark?” Brown eyes watches him, calculating him and Steve forces himself to calm down because he’s not going to let Javier win this one. 

He’s not going to be the one to go off rails, not this fucking time. But he is at a disadvantage because he’s obviously drunk and also in desperate need of some kind of contact. He can feel it tingle in his fingertips, they miss Connie’s soft skin, miss a reason.    
  
“I would have caught Escobar by now if it weren’t for the fact that I have to keep covering for your fucking ass while you go and fuck us over with this stupid Los Pepes bullshit.” The way he says it is malicious and all he gets in return is a scoff.    
  
“You say it’s my fault Escobar is still alive?” It’s a challenge, Steve can tell. But it is so late and Steve is too drunk and therefor it should be ignored, but it is not. 

“Maybe I am. Maybe I am saying it’s your fault innocent lives aren’t?”    
  
“Yeah?” Came a quick, hard response and a push against Steve’s chest. Javier’s otherwise kind and warm eyes turns dark and sad because Steve is the kind of asshole who pulls happiness out of people. -”Well if you can’t handle this like the fucking gringo you are, go back to Miami and your wife and try fix at least one of your mistakes.”   
  
The anger that had lingered within Steve’s chest gathers up again and shoots out into his fingers as he pushes back. Then, the whiskey grabs him around the brain and make him lose himself to desperation and frustration. 

Everything goes fast. He pulls the other man closer and forces his chin up and mash his lips against Javier’s, pressing him up against the desk. Steve’s lips are dominant, passionate, almost violent against Javier’s and Steve is his own surprise. What isn’t a surprise is Javi, trying to fight him by leaning backwards but the other man follows.  _ As if _ you asshole.    
  
Steve keeps Javi’s wrists locked in his grip and a leg pressed between his thighs as he continues by sweeping his tongue across his partner’s lips, pushing for entrance, but Javi’s pride denies him access, that fucking tease. Two can play this game Steve thinks, releases one hand of its grip to slide it in between their warm bodies and brush fingers against the front of Javi’s pants. He traces his cock through the fabric, teasing him back.

Moaning out a hot breath, Javier can’t resist Steve any longer. He rawly kisses him back, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with his, the taste of him is the perfect mixture of salty and sweet. Satisfied with his surrender, Steve round his hands to his ass, cupping Javi’s buttocks and squeezes him through his jeans hard, making him moan louder and grip onto Steve’s shirt to pull him even closer.    
  
Their teeth clashed in a way that should be painful, but Steve doesn’t care and neither does Javi it seems as he push himself further into the other man’s touch as if that is even possible. Steve bites down on his bottom lip to tease, tugging until he can taste copper and iron mixed with tobacco and half a bottle of whiskey. Steve moves his hands from Javie’s butt because he wants to pull his fingers through the brown curls at the back of his partner’s neck. 

Steve hears Javier whine as he grinds against him and it makes him fucking lose it. Steve can feel his own cock strain against his jeans and when he rubs their crotches together, he is awarded with another strangled cry from his partner and Steve wants to rewind and play it again because it was fucking beautiful.   
  
So fucking beautiful that Steve for a moment forgets who and where he is, and one hand mistakenly betrays him as it moves down to grab at Connie’s breast over her shirt, but there is nothing because it isn’t Connie. It’s Javier, and as Javier notices, his eyes open and turn cold before his palms flatten against Steve’s chest and push him off. 

“You use me as a substitute for your fucking wife and that doesn’t work for me. I am not collateral damage.” Javi grumbles and turns his back to Steve to pour a glass of whiskey for himself. His words piss the other man off to a risk high level because they are true while they are not, but also because he feels insulted to be left hanging when both of them  _ want _ it.  

In a flash he moves again, gripping Javier’s wrist, twist his arm and lock it behind him, making him curse loudly. Steve shoves him up against the desk again, face forward, and then press himself up against his back. Steve hears how his partner groans in pain and hisses when he tighten the twist on his arm. Steve press his nose into Javier’s messy hair before mapping his way down to his neck and shoulder with open kisses. He notices himself getting more and more drunk, it’s a mix of alcohol and lust, and it’s making him go crazy. 

“ _ Calma, _ ” Javier exhales in a shiver “You need to calm the fuck down.”

“And  _ you _ need to learn to let go. You were never in control anyway.” Steve’s lips is right by his ear, voice calm, husky and with intent. Javier curls his lip back at the hidden insult and jerks a little in the grip.    
  
“Fuck you…” He replies, lowering his voice to a whisper. It makes Steve tighten his grip, slotting Javi’s narrow back against his chest and moving his mouth down to his partner’s neck, his lip brushes it as he asks.

“Like a prostitute or an informant?” Javier exhales in stuttering gasps and places his free hand on the desk as leverage but doesn’t shoot back at Steve’s insult this time, so Steve reaches an unoccupied hand to stroke his thumb over his partner’s lower lip, who tilts his head back toward the other man’s shoulder, eyes shut, eyebrows arching to contour those prominent creases between the twin strips of hair.    
  
Steve opens one of the desk drawers, knowing of its content, pulling out his set of handcuffs. Javier can hear the metal and knows what it is without the need to look, and he pulls against his partner’s grip again.    
  
“Stop.” He grunts out but the word is faint, and to Steve it doesn’t mean shit. The blonde loops one cuff around the wrist that is already in his vice and then reaches for Javier’s other hand still resting on the desk, pulls it behind him roughly and succeeds in restraining the other man.    
  
Steve, now free to do whatever he wants with both of his hands, pulls Javier up against him further, grounds against him harder, making sure his hardening cock was unmistakable against the other man’s ass. He traces the juncture of Javier’s hip, following it as it disappears under the waistband of both dark jeans and underwear, making his partner hiss. 

His fingers fall lower, wrist disappearing under the clothing to roughly palm Javier's growing hardness. Steve can’t help but let out a low chuckle because he’s winning before his voice trickled, honey thick, into Javier’s ear.    
  
“Have you ever been fucked by another man?”

“None of your fucking business,” he twists his head back and growls, moving his hips a bit more forcefully. Steve laughs again. “Better be nice to me, or I’ll leave you here like this. All flushed and wanting.”   
  
“Fine,” he says this time in a breathy voice completely unlike the one Steve expects. “Show me your fun white boy.”   


The feeling of Javi’s body before him is exactly the one he’s craving. His own body slick with sweat from the hot room and his own exertion, his t-shirt sticking to his torso.

“Kiss me.” Steve grunts, and Javier surprisingly obeys. Steve leans down and kisses his partner back and it was still a battle for power, even though both men now admitting to the pleasure. With no hands to touch with, Javier simply angles his head up to get more of the toxic thrill Steve was poisoning his body with, allowing it to course through him. 

Steve eventually ends the kiss and pulls his wrist free to unbutton Javier’s jeans. He roughly forces them down and pulls the other man’s underwear along, exposing him completely. “Spread your legs wider.” He orders as he strokes two fingertips over one ass cheek, watching how Javier’s flesh respond to his touch. He loses himself in the curve of his partner’s perfectly tanned ass and as the other man spreads his legs and Steve watches how the muscles move, he reaches for the fleshiest part of those delicate cheeks, groping them with a firm grasp before releasing them again. 

“Is this the best you’ve got?” Javier snorts even though it’s clear he’s holding back moans. Steve doesn’t warn, doesn’t give a sign - just pushes two fingers inside of the other man. Steve goes deeper, past his knuckles, stretching him with rough strokes. He finger fucks his partner until Javier’s dick is hard and only then pulls his fingers out, making Javi snarl a “fuck you” and squirm. 

Steve grips the base of his dick and moves into position. As the tip of him touches the now gaping entryway, Steve’s eyes blacken with a desire he didn’t know he has, bordering dangerously on madness as the urge to fulfill his darkest desires bubbles up inside of him. He can’t wait to get inside of Javier.    
  
So he doesn’t wait any longer. He pushes himself in and Javi's ass is tight, tighter than anything he's known in a very very long time. The other man exhales a long and shaky breath as he is penetrated, feeling Steve’s full dominance mode. Steve notices how Javier forces himself to relax. How he bears down until Steve’s hips are pressing against his ass, cock fully seated inside him. Steve doesn’t give the other man a chance to recover, doesn’t wait for him to adjust. He rocks his hips in and out, picking up speed until he’s snapping them forward on every thrust.   
  
He reaches forward to catch Javier by the throat, pulling him back against his chest, and he holds him there while resting his forehead against the back of the other man’s head, smelling sweat and citrus scented shampoo.    
  
“Fuck…” His voice darkens to a menacing decibel as he pushes the last of his length inside of Javier, holding back the urge to hiss loudly with pleasure, as he is supposed to be the dominate one and exude the confidence that comes with the position.   
  
“Murphy,  _ mierda _ …” Javier lets out and Steve can’t help but enjoy the pain and the pleasure he is inflicting, reveling in the fact that Javi seems to enjoy it as well. One last thing to completely undress his partner of any control, Steve ease the grip on the man’s throat and moves it up to close it around Javier’s lips, gagging him.    
  
Steve pulls the other man closer by the hand over his mouth and whispers a hot breath into his ear. “Shut up.” With his free hand Steve grips Javier’s hip and continues to thrust while his partner moans muffle against his hand. 

“Fuck Los Pepes, and Pablo and this fucking country. But mostly fuck you Javi, fuck you for making me worry about you, fuck you for having me wait up for you and cover for you. I am not some fucking babysitter, I am not some woman for you to get home to. I’m a man, you feel that huh?”    
  
He slides his hips swiftly backwards before slamming into Javier again, this time none to gently, and constricting on his lips, denying him the access to answer. Steve quickens his pace, holding the position before pushing Javier’s body down on the desk, releasing the grip on his mouth. The muscles begin to clamp down around Javi as Steve pushes in deeper, angling his hips just so that he hits into the deepest parts of his partners cavity.

“Say you’re sorry.” He breathes out as he angles himself down over Javier’s body. “Say it.”    
There’s a moment of consideration from the other man’s part while he’s busy getting his ass fucked and as Steve comes, it’s the last straw.    
  
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” 

Steve pulls out, Javier comes and the other man takes a step back. Loud breathing is shared between them as seconds pass them. Javier doesn’t move, ass still in the air, body still leaning over the desk. Steve puts his jeans back on and sits down on the desk next to his partner, downs the glass of whiskey Javier had poured for himself earlier and reaches for a cigarette in his pocket.    
  
“So you won’t be seeing Los Pepes any more?” Steve exhales smoke and looks down to find Javier’s eyes fixate on his own, filled with a mixture of fury and wanting.    
“Uncuff me dammit.” Javi grits out.    
“Right?” Steve lifts an eyebrow, impatiently wanting the right answer.    
“Right, right fuck, I won’t. Just…”    
  
Steve pulls out the key from the desk drawer and uncuff his partner, who pushes his hands against the desk to get on his wobbling feet. He quickly pulls his jeans back up and looks up at Steve with deep red anger.   
  
Then there’s a hand in an lightning fast motion whips across Steve’s face, cutting into his cheek before removing the contact from his skin just as quickly. Touching the cheek where the blow fell he looks up at his partner.   
  
“I guess I deserved that.” He chuckles lightly.   
  
Javier continues to scowl at Steve, then mutters under his breath, “You deserve a lot more than that asshole.” before sitting down next to him on the desk and lights a cigarette too. They sit in complete silence, only the sound of the night outside of the window fills the air.    
  
“So, you do worry about me.” Javier eventually says and carefully grins, keeping his eyes on the floor.    
  
Steve chuckles and shakes his head because he didn’t blame the whiskey, Connie or fucking Pablo. He was definitely blaming Javier.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone call the police.
> 
> or follow me on tumblr: glennrheeality.tumblr.com


End file.
